Phantom Yellow Bruises
by BloodiedBowties
Summary: Blaine Anderson entered the campus, not knowing it would one day become his personal Hell. He left with the knowledge that his degree was less important than what he learned about himself. He just hopes the bruises he keeps seeing, yellowing grossly on his skin, will one day fade. College AU
1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

A long time ago, one of Blaine's teachers had posed the question of which sense they'd be most willing to give up: hearing or sight. At the time, Blaine first wondered why they weren't also considering touch and smell and taste because those were senses too. His second thought was that the question was hard enough to think about without adding the other possibilities into the mix.

It was winter. So he thought about Cooper's hugs and the aroma of Christmas pine and the taste of his mom's gingerbread cookies, his favorite.

And then, to answer the question, he compared watching the snow falling lazily outside the window, coating the entire world in white, and listening to the off-key carolers that had come around the house the night before. He picked sight over an ability to hear.

This was long before he would learn that music is everything that makes him who he is, that his heart pumps chords through his blood and his lungs breathe crescendos and decrescendos.

Obviously, his mind had changed since then – and not just because of the role music plays in his life, but also because his most intimate moments seem to occur under a blanket of darkness. Outside beneath black skies or inside with lights off, yet soul exposed.

And really, he feels like intimacy and vulnerability are just two sides of the same coin, that intimacy is inherently being vulnerable.

Blaine's eyes are closed when Kurt shifts beside him, sleepily humming a little tune as his arms tighten around Blaine's torso. And Blaine knows that, as physically beautiful (stunning, breath-taking) as Kurt is, he'd still give up his sight for the ability to hear Kurt's loving sighs every morning.

Their limbs are tangled together beneath the comforter that's been kicked down to their waists, and Kurt gently teases his fingertips down Blaine's exposed cheek since the other is pressed firmly into his pillow.

And it's in the darkness, while Kurt caresses his cheek with nothing other than adoration, that Blaine unwillingly flinches.

His eyes are still closed when the whimper escapes his throat.

Kurt murmurs low, "What happened to you?" They both know that Blaine's not ready to answer tonight, but that he will be eventually. The question isn't a real question as much as it's an observation, and Kurt doesn't push.

Kurt can't know that Blaine's mind sinks back into a different time, a different set of arms, a similar question spoken curiously from another bed: _What happened to make you so self-conscious, Blaine?_

Blaine pushes back the memory because this is Kurt, and Kurt is different. He doesn't expect anything from him right now. So Blaine keeps his eyes shut tightly and lets Kurt cushion him against his own skin. And Kurt feels so right when he, and everything, is so terribly wrong.

* * *

**End Note: **_Hi everyone! So I'm officially starting my next long story project, and no, I am not sure how long this one will continue. But I hope you'll stick with me. It is a WIP, but it means a lot to me that this story gets told. I tried to write it once a year or so ago, even had a few pages typed. But then I couldn't do it and my computer died, so I lost everything. But I am ready to revisit it. So here we go…_


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Ashland wasn't his first choice. Once John Anderson heard that his son, Blaine, had not wanted to pursue medicine or law or any other "real career" and instead was majoring in music, he'd refused to pay the tuition for his son's schooling. Even Blaine's brother, Cooper, had gotten a degree in business to appease their father before deciding to move to LA in search of an acting gig. It was the disappointment of the century, until Blaine's announcement came along.

"If you want to be one of those artist types, you'll have to work for it like the rest of them. Don't expect any help from us!"

Blaine remembers the resolve in his dad's eyes, how it filled him with the fury to prove himself and succeed on his own. That year he'd applied for scholarships and grants and taken on three jobs by the summer to save for what he knew would be a looming black hole to his funds.

He'd really been trying for Oberlin (and had been accepted!), but Ashland had offered him the highest scholarship out of all the schools to which he applied, and that's why he ultimately decided to accept their offer.

He still had to find work outside of class to support himself. This is the reason he's trudging back to campus in his black Sperrys after an interview with yet another local coffee shop.

The interview had gone better than the last, but he still had a sick feeling in his stomach. No one local wanted to hire the college kids because of the conflicts in their schedules. With classes changing every semester, business would have to adjust their employees' hours practically with every head turn, and it was hard enough to fit them in as it was. Blaine could tell the managers _wanted_ to hire. They really did. The college kids were just more hassle than their worth sometimes.

Blaine hopes, for his sake, that this new place sees him as the exception and gives him a job. He needs it.

He also managed to score some hours at the school's library, which is a joke more than a job since they pay him minimum wage to sit at the front desk and do his homework in between checking books out for students.

It's remedial, but that's all it has going for it.

He won't deny that his mind hungered for the experience Oberlin would've brought him, but he has to admit that he fell in love with the suburban Ashland campus. Lush trees are situated throughout the town, and Blaine can't wait to see them bright with the changing colors of autumn and freshly leaved again when spring comes around.

He lives in one of the older dorms; there are no elevators, but luckily he lives only on the second floor of Westerville Hall. He flashes his school ID at the scanner outside the dormitory, which beeps as it unlocks the door for him. He slides his ID case back in his pocket, letting the key ring and the connected keychains hang loose at his thigh. His room key, which he also keeps on the ring of the black ID holder, jingles against his Aerosmith_Honkin' on Bobo _harmonica as he heads up the stairs to his room.

Cam is in.

"Hey, man, how did it go?" his roommate asks from where's he's perched on his lofted bed. Cam sits cross-legged, bent over his sketch pad in a way Blaine knows will make his back ache later, but he looks up eagerly at Blaine, hoping for good news. Blaine simply shakes his head, draping the strap of his bag around his desk chair and climbing up the ladder and curling into himself on his own lofted bed. "Sorry, man," Cam apologizes, even though it's not his fault at all.

Blaine runs his hand over his face, rubbing at the tension between his eyes. When he blinks, Cam is still looking at him worriedly. "I'm all right," he assures him. "I just – I'm really tired."

Cam hums his acknowledgement, letting the sketchpad rest in his lap and placing his drawing pencil behind his ear. It's a sign that Blaine has his full attention, even though he hasn't indicated that he wants to talk about it. But Cam knows that Blaine doesn't mean he's physically tired. Well, actually, he probably is considering how late he's been staying up to work on his ethics paper. But Blaine is talking about his emotional exhaustion. Nothing ever seems to be easy for Blaine, and it hurts Cam to know that all he can do is listen.

"It feels like nothing is worth it," Blaine whispers, eyes glistening and wide as if looking through Cam.

"Sure it is," Cam disagrees gently. "And it will be. Eventually."

* * *

Although he and Cam room together now, they originally met at orientation the week before school began. The sports teams, who had been to campus early for training, helped the freshman into their rooms. Blaine had been assigned to an all-boys dorm while Cam was originally placed in one of the new dorms across campus.

Blaine's original roommate was a boy named Rich. His name was all Blaine knew about the boy. On move-in day, Rich had gotten to the room and placed his stamp on it hours before Blaine had arrived. It was enough time for him to de-loft the bed and start the incense.

When Blaine turned his key to the closet they called a room, he was greeted with a mouthful of musky smoke and the poor attempt to cover the smell of pot.

"Dude. You must be the roommate!" Rich said, his words spoken long and low.

Blaine coughed, politely holding his hand out to shake Rich's. "Bl-Blaine," he wheezed.

"Whoa, man. Take it easy." Instead of shaking his hand, Rich helped him to the floor as he coughed. "There you go. You need anything?"

"Air. Please."

He watched Rich hop over his bed – literally – to get to the window. Blaine sighed deeply as the fresh air hit his face. At the same time, the school's security knocked on their door, the floor RA standing with his arms crossed behind them. They were both escorted off the premises.

After being detained by PS (he learned this stood for Public Safety), Blaine followed his RA back to his dorm where his luggage had been left in the hallway. Wes, the RA, assured him that he wouldn't be in any trouble, as Rich had admitted that the pot had been all him. Another PS officer nodded to them as they came back in.

The room had been scavenged.

"I don't even want to know how much they found in here," Blaine said dryly.

"Yeah, probably not," Wes agreed, wrinkling his nose at the smell that remained.

"So, Blaine, right?" The PS officer asked. Blaine nodded. "We had to search your stuff too as a precaution. You're clean."

_Yes, I know, _Blaine thought. "Thanks," he said instead.

"What's going to happen to Rich, James?" Wes asked the officer.

"I can't say much. But at least suspended for the semester," he replied.

"On the first day!"

"Yes, Blaine. Everyone signs an honor code during the summer sessions, remember? Substance abuse is included on there," explains Wes.

"Right. So… I'll be alone this semester?" He pried. He's not too fond of the idea.

The PS officer Wes seems to know personally nods as he leaves, and Wes returns a wave without taking his attention from Blaine.

"Not necessarily. We find a lot of freshmen want to change rooms the first semester. We can only guess how compatible two people might be, and as you can see," he gestured around the room, "we're not always spot on."

"I see that," Blaine said, and Wes laughed. "I can just imagine how those meetings go. _Oh! Put the OCD one with the jock, the asthmatic with the pot-head."_ But Blaine grinned to let Wes know that he was joking.

"It's actually a lot less maniacal of a process, but I'm sorry, Blaine," Wes admitted, containing his laugh behind a smile.

"That's ok. You can make it up to me by helping me get this bed re-lofted so I can actually _move_ in here."

He would've done it anyway because it was his job to make the freshmen comfortable, but Wes made quick work of maneuvering the bed back over the desk. He'd done it so many times before.

With the window open, they could hear the excited shouts of Blaine's classmates from 'the Green,' the empty grass field on campus where orientation was taking place.

"You're late!" Wes exclaimed. "Go!"

"Okay, where am I going?"

"Just follow the noise and tell one of the guys in the yellow shirts why you're late. They'll know."

"Okay."

"And Blaine," Wes said, waiting for Blaine to turn back around at him. "Don't forget these," he said, jingling his dorm key.

* * *

He was late to orientation. The guys – and girls – in the yellow shirts ended up being the upperclassmen who led the orientation games. They were understanding of his tardiness and told him to join his classmates in one of the circles across the Green. Some of the students had been smart enough the bring picnic blankets with them. Blaine was not one of them.

Blaine joined the circle of students closest to him, as they'd already made a spot for Blaine to join.

"Right on, man!" Someone shouted, and Blaine felt his ears turn red as everyone nearby turned to look at him.

"Sh!" an upperclassman said. "It's Cameron's turn."

Cam ended up being the blond boy sitting directly across from Blaine. He was wearing a red slouchy beanie, a black shirt with the words _Streetlight Manifesto_ across the chest, and jeans with thin holes at the knees, obvious because of the way he was sitting.

They were currently playing two truths and a lie.

"Hi, my name is Cameron Dunne. Cam. And I uh—I play the sax. My favorite fruit is pineapple. And uh…" He thought for a second about his third fact. "I have a twin brother."

That was too easy. Blaine knew everyone would go for the last fact because of how long it took for Cam to think about it. There had to be a trick there.

"Okay," their upperclassman said. "Who thinks Cam is lying about playing the saxophone?" A few hands went up. Blaine shook his head. That was actually really likely. _Streetlight Manifesto_ was a ska band from what he remembered; very brass and woodwind heavy music. Plus, calling it the sax was a dead give-away. Cam was at least on casual terms with the instrument.

"Who thinks pineapple was the lie?"

Blaine raised his hand.

"Who thinks the twin is the lie?"

The rest of the circle raised their hands. And Cam laughed.

"No, man. I'm totally allergic to citrus. Pineapple is a murderer!" He said dramatically, with a wink in Blaine's direction.

Cam ended up being the only person Blaine was able to read accurately after that. And, at the end of the day, Cam had been the only one to read Blaine correctly too.

How fast rumors spread!

"Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson. I play the piano. I box. And I just got busted for smoking pot," he'd said. And everyone laughed because they thought they knew him already – the kid that almost got suspended on his first day. What a bad ass. And then to actually admit it at orientation!

Cam was the only one to raise his hand for the real lie.

* * *

Cam joined him a week after class started, when it was clear that his roommate across campus was not going to respect the fact that they shared a space. He'd been sexiled nearly every day since orientation, not always because of the same partner. Normally, the RAs encouraged students to work out their differences, but when Public Safety found Cam wandering around the campus late at night because he'd been locked out of his room without his keys, they decided it was enough.

Re-meeting Cam was like walking into Oz, and Blaine was Dorothy. Literally. Cam was an artist, so suddenly Blaine's drab walls were filled with bright colors. Although much of this was Cam's artwork, Cam encouraged Blaine to contribute too. Blaine didn't own band posters like Cam, but when he mentioned he'd loved to do something with music even though he didn't have the money for it, Cam brought him to the local Goodwill where they bought out all the good vinyl records and displayed them on the walls above their beds.

They lived so well together that it was no surprise how close they became as friends. Now that Cam was in his life, Blaine realized how much he'd been missing in his friends.

Cam just seemed to get him in a way no one had, he could read his moodsas easily as he'd been able to read him the day they met. And on days where Blaine felt like he'd barely be able to get up the next morning, Cam would come back with a color-in velvet poster and they'd spend the evening coloring with cheap markers because he knew something monotonous and distracting would help Blaine ease up on himself.

Blaine's not sure how it works, but it felt like the world somehow shifted into place when their smiles aligned.

He'd never had a best friend before.

* * *

As much as he hated his original room because of his roommate, Cam really despises the fact that he and Blaine have such a small space to share between the two of them. If only they had more room to make it homey; he could see Blaine really liking if they had the space for a tapestry.

Because of the ladders, they don't even have enough room for them both to stand next to each other in between the two desks. And there's no way for them to both be sitting at their desks at the same time. It's why they'd both taken to doing their reading and light work in their beds where they won't get in each other's way.

And actually, Cam never expected to find the layout as comfortable as it is. He'd never been a bed-worker before.

He leaves his sketchpad and pencil atop his comforter and stretches when he gets to their limited open area. They had managed to get a rug down, though it bends at the corners in front of Blaine's closet.

It takes him awhile to talk Blaine down from his bunk. After discussing the interview and venting his frustrations over trying to make ends meet, Blaine had fallen into a light sleep. Cam let him rest and returned to his sketching, but he wants to make sure Blaine gets some food in his stomach now.

"Blaine. Come on, man. Dining hall is only open until 6 on Sundays," he says, adjusting his beanie on his head.

"I really should start my English a—a—ssignment," Blaine yawns into his arm.

"You should eat first. You'll need the energy. I know for a fact you skipped lunch. Come on, man."

Blaine groans, but rolls over out of bed so they can eat. He slides past Cam and adds a little bit of gel to get his hair back in place.

* * *

Cam is awoken by a loud thunk and a shout.

"Blaine?"

A whimper.

"Blaine!" He says again, suddenly alert. "Are you okay?"

"Ugh…Cam," he hears from the floor. Cam looks across the room where Blaine's bed is empty. The sliding piece of wood that should be protecting them from the open side is pressed up against the wall.

Shit.

Cam immediately climbs down from his bed, stepping carefully over Blaine's form, which is twisted all too awkwardly on the floor, tangled up in his bed sheets.

He grabs his phone from where it's charging on the desk and dials 911 for emergency services. After giving them the information they need, he calls Wes and sits down at Blaine's side, running his hand up and down an exposed arm. He doesn't want to move Blaine or hurt him further.

"I dunno, man. He just fell," he says.

"Nightmare," Blaine gasps between teeth clenched tight. He's started shaking.

"You're gonna be okay, Blaine. Help will be here soon. I need to go let Wes in. I'm going to turn the light on, ok?"

Blaine doesn't answer.

When the paramedics get there, they strap him to a backboard and secure a brace around his neck. The noise had woken some of those in the surrounding rooms, and Wes assures them that Blaine will be fine, encouraging them to head back to their own rooms.

A paramedic asks Wes if he's coming with them as the others prepare to move Blaine down to the ambulance. There's no elevator, so they have to maneuver him down the stairs.

"Cam," Blaine weakly corrects. "Please. Cam."

"It's ok, Wes," Cam says. "You have that test tomorrow, and I wouldn't be leaving him alone at the hospital anyway."

Wes nods. "Just keep me updated."

The wait is atrocious, and Cam goes insane sitting in the bland waiting room. There's not much going on tonight, so Blaine was taken back immediately. But he's so worried about Blaine he forgets to be bored.

He'd been rooming with Blaine for weeks now, and he knew Blaine was always such a deep, unmoving sleeper. What kind of nightmare throws someone like that from their bed?

He can't forget the way Blaine looked at him in the ambulance, so scared of everything happening around him. Despite the paramedics keeping track of his vitals, securing an oxygen mask over his mouth, Blaine eyes found Cam's and he reached for his hand as if Cam was the only thing in the world grounding him.

He'd hates having to sit here. He wants Blaine. Cam also really hates hospitals, and he knows Blaine does too by the way he'd scrunched his eyes closed as they brought him through the doors.

Blaine's doctor comes by a few minutes later. "He's going to be fine," She says. "He had a bit of a panic attack when he got here. But he's ok now. We took him down to make sure he hadn't hurt his neck or back. It looks like deep bruising, and he'll be aching for a while. We're discharging him tonight with some pain-killers for the next few days. If you follow me, I can take you to him. We're just finishing up."

Luckily, they managed to save Blaine's pajamas, so Cam helps him change back into them before they leave the hospital. Wes comes by to pick them up. It's 5 in the morning by the time they get back to the dorm, early enough that one or two people eye them concerned on their way to the school's gym. They make their way slowly up the flight of stairs, Blaine breathing heavily through the pain and exertion.

"You're okay, Blaine. Come on. A few steps more," Wes encourages.

Cam walks a little faster to unlock the door to their room where Blaine's bed has been remade, and Cam smiles at Wes gratefully.

"We really should de-bunk your bed, Blaine," Wes says. "I couldn't do it on my own before."

"No. It's ok. I can get up there," Blaine declares.

"Blaine…"

"We don't have the room for it, Cam. I can get up there. I swear."

Wes and Cam share a glance that Blaine does not see. He stubbornly grabs ahold of the ladder, moving rigidly up the rungs. He hisses when he lies down on his back, and instead turns onto his stomach.

"Okay, boys. I'm going to head out. Let me know if you need anything. And, Blaine, move your wood frame over!"

It isn't until Cam locks the door, turns off the light, and climbs into his own bed, that Blaine speaks again.

"I feel really silly."

"Don't," Cam yawns.

"I wasn't even hurt. And all that money…"

"You could've been, though. You could've broken your neck, Blaine. It was serious."

"I-"

"Stop. I know what you're going to say. Don't be sorry." Blaine inhales deeply, and Cam can hear his mind wandering even as sleepy as they both are.

"I was more scared than hurt, I think," Blaine says.

"Why?"

"I think… I want to tell you. But not now. Soon though." He sighs. "I really hate hospitals."

"Me too," Cam admits.

* * *

_A/N: OK, guys. Meet Cam. It's been awhile since I've tried including OCs, so I hope you like him. __Yes, you're allowed to like him.__ Also, this is Ashland University in name only. I'm drawing a lot of the descriptions and policies of the college from my own experience._

_Let me know what you think, if you get a chance. _


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Excuse me!"

Blaine quickly glances up from the library computer and uncrosses his legs, in order to assist the student on the other side of the counter. He's got a sour look on his face, and Blaine can tell without asking that he's probably an upperclassman who left an assignment for the last minute. He recognizes the tells – the impatient tapping of his fingers against the counter, the careless slouch of his shoulders.

"C12," he grunts. This is code Blaine knows well – it means the student has printed a document from computer 12 and is here to pick up his article.

"Of course!" Blaine's bright smile - the 'I'm so happy to help you' one – falls as soon as he turns to the back room where he has to confirm the document. His back is still a mass of bruises from falling out of his bunk, and he walks stiffly to adjust to the pain. As it turns out, the article the student had printed is close to 50 pages and a small line has formed by the time Blaine gets back with the article.

The upperclassman clomps off in a hurry, leaving Blaine with the slender boy behind him. In his arms, he carries a small stack of books, and Blaine is glad it's a simple job that he can do while sitting.

"Rude," the boys says as he slides his books on the counter, and Blaine's smile loses all its luster. He really can't afford a complaint, but has no idea what he did – had he made a face when he sat down?

He springs up and suppresses his wince. "Sorry, sir, I –"

"Oh God! No not you! Bryce – the guy who just left. He's in my history class, and his attitude irks me. Ugh, sorry. Let's start over. I'm Kurt, and you're definitely not rude." By the time he is finished speaking, Blaine has checked out all of the books and is stamping on the due dates.

"Blaine," he responds, handing the books back to Kurt and easing back into a polite smile.

"Thanks." Kurt looks rather flustered, but his eyes gleam in spirals of blue and green. Blaine's stomach clenches looking at them.

It sounds like a cannon when the girl behind Kurt suddenly coughs.

"Sorry, how can I help you?" Blaine asks, noticing the slight pink of Kurt's ears as he turns away with his books.

* * *

Every time Blaine has come out to someone, a huge fuss is made by whomever Blaine was telling. It's generally more hassle than it's worth, Blaine has learned. He doesn't hide it, but he doesn't come out explicitly anymore. Being gay is only part of who he is. So, if his sexuality becomes a topic of conversation, he likes for it to happen naturally. That's the idea any way.

Coming out to Cam is easy, relaxed. When Blaine returns to his dorm after his library shift that day, he enters his room to loud ska and Cam flailing his legs and arms about in what Blaine assumes is a dance. There's very little room for such movement, so he nearly hits him with their door.

"You gotta hear this, man!" Cam shouts over the music. And Blaine listens out for what's he starting to realize is _Under the Sea, _full out Disney classic in the guise of a ska-punk tune.

Blaine laughs, and Cam drags him into the fray. He tries to keep up with what Cam is doing, but Cam's moving so fast that it's difficult to see exactly what the movements are. Eventually, Blaine realizes that it's basically just a kicking and arm swinging motion, even though it's done incredibly fast.

They are both breathing heavy when the song ends, and Cam lowers the volume on his computer, keeping the ska playing low.

"Look at you skanking like a pro!" Cam says, panting.

"Excuse me!"

In between breaths, he laughs. "It's the dance, man. Skanking. To skank. I liked your jazz hands." He flares his fingers out and lightly mimics Blaine's dance. "Very classy. Shit, man! I forgot about your back. I'm so sorry. Do you need Advil or something?"

Blaine waves Cam off. "It's fine. I took something earlier," he says. It actually hurts like hell, but dancing with Cam was worth it.

"If you say so. How was work?" Cam opens their mini-fridge and takes out two bottles of water, one for himself and one for Blaine.

"I think I got hit on today," Blaine admits. "Honestly, I'm not sure if he was trying or whether he was just unknowingly obvious," he muses.

"Was he hot?" Cam asks, and when he uses the masculine pronoun, Blaine realizes that he'd let it slip. From examining Cam's reaction, nothing has changed - there's no difference in how he's looking at Blaine or speaking to him.

It's acceptance.

Cam nods for Blaine to sit at his desk and slides down onto the floor of the open area, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands. Blaine smiles, breathing heavily as he eases onto his desk chair. "Definitely. And his eyes, Cam. He's one of those guys who has no idea he can get anyone he wanted."

"There's a girl in my drawing class like that," Cam reveals. "I think I might go for it. You should too."

"Hmm, I don't know about that. We barely spoke."

"So? Isn't this what college is all about? Living? Taking chances?"

"Actually it's about acquiring a degree," Blaine deadpans. "One moment," he continues as his phone rings. It's a number he does not recognize.

"Blaine speaking."

"Blaine, this is Megan Greene from the Greene Bean."

"Oh! Hello, ma'am." Blaine immediately jumps out of his chair, hops over Cam's legs, and paces in the small space they have. On the other side of the phone is the woman who conducted his latest interview, and his nerves twitch in anticipation. Cam looks up at him curiously.

"It's Megan."

"Right. What can I do for you?"

"Well, Blaine, we would like to offer you the position. You said in your interview you'd be willing to work Fridays? We're gonna hold you to that – no taking off to hang out with your friends."

"Fridays? Yes, of course. I can work then."

"All right. You got it. Come in this Friday for training and bring your class schedule so we can talk about other hours. See you."

"Thanks, Megan!" he says as he hangs up the phone, flooding with excitement.

"You're a barista?" Cam asks calmly from the floor.

"I'm a barista!" Blaine squeals in affirmation, and only then does Cam get up off the floor again to pull Blaine close and clap him (gently!) on the back.

* * *

The thing about Fridays is that it's campus-wide drinking day, and even for non-drinkers, it's unofficial social day. No one does school work on Fridays, and everyone wants to be with their friends.

Blaine knows he's missing out on a lot, but he reminds himself that having this barista job allows him to stay at Ashland. He ends up working hours on Fridays, Saturdays, and Wednesdays in addition to his library hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

The Greene Bean is a casual coffee place with food sold throughout the day. Even though it's off campus, it's a college hot spot, and Blaine often sees students he recognizes from his classes or library regulars.

The hardest part about Fridays, he learns, is that certain drunken groups will always find their way there in attempt to sober up. This happens as early as 7 and as late as 10, depending on when the revelry begins.

Closing is at 10:30.

Most days, Blaine will bike there because he hates walking back to campus that late at night, especially on campus-wide drunk night.

Sometimes, Cam will come visit him on the early end of his shift, but as his work Fridays continue, Blaine starts to see less of Cam.

When he gets back to their room at the edge of 11:00 and Cam isn't there, Blaine pretends not to know what he's doing: attending some party or fucking some girl or getting involved in some other shit Blaine pretends not to know about.

Friday nights make their differences glaringly obvious, but Blaine gives Cam the credit for not doing any of it in their room. As long as it's not there, he can pretend it's not happening. And even though it does actually happen, it doesn't change who Cam is with Blaine. Despite everything, they work.

And so he ignores the tight feeling of worry in his stomach when Cam gets back to their room early Saturday mornings in the clothes he wore the day before, stinking of booze and sex.

One morning, Cam doesn't arrive back until closer to 9:30 when Blaine is ankle deep in an assignment, trying to get a chunk of his schoolwork finished before his shift at the coffee shop. Blaine scoots his chair in closer to the desk, allowing Cam to pass and climb his ladder onto his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes and groaning.

Cam looks miserable, and everything is so obvious that the situation would be more awkward if Blaine ignored it completely. Part of Blaine wishes he could just stay silent, because he doesn't really know what to say. But silence would just give the impression that he was angry or uncomfortable. Which he's not.

"Why do you do it?" Blaine finally asks.

"Do what?"

"Really, Cam?" At Blaine's tone, Cam glances down to see Blaine's eyebrow raised as if saying 'who are you trying to fool?'

"It makes me feel."

"What does?"

"All of it. None of it. I don't know."

* * *

It rains. Sundays are mostly classwork days, but Blaine and Cam always make sure to carve out some time for themselves. Sometimes this means staying in and listening to all sorts of music or putting in a movie or going for a walk. Other times they go out for lunch or play a round of Mario Kart Wii in the Student Center.

This Sunday it rains, and although they normally would find something inside to do, Cam wants to go out.

"Come on, man. Just grab some old clothes and you can borrow my rain jacket or something."

"But my jeans!"

"They'll dry. Please, Blaine."

Blaine hesitantly agrees. If there's anything Cam has taught him it's about letting himself experience things. So much of Blaine's life is centered around surviving and succeeding, he forgets to let himself just _be._ Cam hasn't let him down before.

It's wet and cold, and Blaine is grateful for the gloves he brought. Cam, though, seems unnaturally at home in the rain, letting it drip down his face in rivulets. Their clothes are completely soaked within seconds and Blaine's hair flattens and curls against his skin.

They walk along the sidewalk, the autumn leaves squelching under their boots.

"So, you like the rain," Blaine comments as they walk, shivering beneath Cam's rain jacket.

"Because he did." Cam confirms. "D loved storms. He wanted to be a meteorologist."

Damian Dunne is one of the subjects they don't talk about. Blaine remembers the ice-breaker circle where he met Cam. And he remembers the pause before Cam spoke his third fact about having a twin. Thinking back on it now, Blaine can envision the brief twitch of Cam's lower lip, which he hadn't been able to read then, but which he can now.

He'd been hurt.

"Who actually wants to be a meteorologist?" Blaine ponders, rewarded when Cam releases a short laugh.

"D did. Granted he wanted to be a storm chaser first."

"Ahh. _Twister._"

They walk aimlessly around town in silence, listening to the rain striking the world around them. Blaine doesn't generally get winded, but the weather conditions are making his chest feel tight, so they sit down at the nearest bench.

"You can ask you know," Cam prompts. "I know you've been wanting to. And it's you. I'll tell you anything, Blaine. I trust you."

"I just – what happened, Cam?"

"He committed suicide last year."

Blaine wants to speak, but he can't. Instead he gapes. Just – why does something like that happen? His silence is a blessing, however, because Cam needs to keep talking. Now that it's out there, he needs to finish it.

"God, Blaine. He was always so hard on himself, you know? He never got the grades he needed for school and the rejection just got to him. But it was more than that. Socially, he just couldn't find a solid group to keep his spirits up. He was raised up and let down so many times that he just lost it. And there was nothing I could do.

"I tried. God knows I tried. D and I grew up really close but once we entered high school it was like he started h-hating me for finding my niche so easily. He compared us all the time. I had my friends and my art and I got accepted into my first choice of colleges.

"H-how did he not know I'd do anything for him, drop everything? How did he not see that?"

And Blaine can honestly say "I don't know" because he sees that in Cam every day.

"My brother killed himself, Blaine. And he killed himself because I made him feel like he wasn't good enough."

"Oh my god, Cam. No!" Blaine insists. And he wraps his arms around Cam's trembling form. They're both still cold, but it's not because of the temperature anymore.

"I was so proud of him," Cam says, the words muffled in the jacket Blaine is wearing. "I miss him so much."

"I know." And Blaine hates that there's nothing else he can do, that Cam has to go through this. Blaine looks up at the dark, grey sky creating the illusion of nighttime and aches for his best friend, and for Damian.

They fall silent, letting the rain wash away their tears and not hiding their sniffles from each other.

"Will you tell me about your dream?" Cam eventually asks. It's not that much of a surprise that Cam is not ignorant to his late-nights and the fear that recurs in his sleep. Just like Blaine wasn't ignorant to the fact that something had happened to Cam's brother.

Blaine isn't sure if he's ready, but Cam just ripped his heart out and put it on the dissecting table for him. It's not obligation so much as the right time. He knows Cam would honor his wishes if Blaine were to say he didn't want to talk about it, and for that reason, he finds himself digging into his own heart. Plus, this is Cam.

"I'm alone, "Blaine begins. "When I was 15 I was...uh…gay-bashed at my school's Sadie Hawkins dance and I ended up in the hospital for a month. In my dream, I'm still hooked up to all the machines from the hospital but I can't talk or move. I can only see and hear the things happening around me. Time is endless. One dream feels like an eternity, and no one comes to visit me. Not even a nurse or a doctor. I-I-I don't hear a single human voice, don't feel any human contact. And then, I start to feel my body decomposing and I'm screaming but no one can hear me."

"That sounds awful, B."

Blaine jumps at Cam's voice, having forgotten that he wasn't actually in his dream. Shaking off the emotions, he looks at Cam who is looking back at him concerned.

"Hey. You're not there, all right?" Cam grabs his hand and squeezes it. "See? You're not alone, B."

Blaine stutters in a deep breath. Cam is so easy to be with, and Blaine knows that if he'd let himself surrender to that mindset he could fall in love with Cam. As it is, Blaine knows Cam is straight, actively straight by the way girls eye him while they walk around campus together. So Blaine doesn't let himself love Cam like that, and only in certain perfectly intimate and vulnerable moments does Blaine glance into a peripheral future something like that could happen. And it doesn't ache, it just is.

He's not in love with Cam, but he still loves him. He doesn't have to say it. The fact that they are sitting on a bench together in the frigid pouring rain, both reeling from their waves of grief while trying to comfort each other, is enough.

"We should head back," Cam finally announces. "Don't want you getting sick."

* * *

A few days later, Blaine is finishing up his library shift and making his way to the late night deli when he sees Cam headed the same direction with whom he assumes are his jazz band friends, since the class just let out.

Because of his busy schedule, Blaine hasn't really made any friends besides his co-workers at the coffee shop and Cam. For the most part, the people he meets end up being acquaintances. But Cam feels like enough on good days. Cam is worth 50 friends.

On bad days, Blaine will witness just how well-liked Cam is all around and take it upon himself to wonder why it's so hard for him to connect to people easily like that.

"Blaine!" Cam shouts when he sees him. "Would you like to meet my friends?"

"Sure. Hi there!" Blaine waves to the group. He's slightly overwhelmed with the amount of kids around

"Hey you're the one that got busted for weed the first day," announces one of the girls. "Right on dude!"

"Oh…uhh… that wasn't actually me. That was my roommate." They glance at Cam. "My original roommate," he clarifies.

Cam bristles at Blaine's obvious discomfort. "Why don't we get our food and then we can sit down for introductions?"

Most of Cam's friend head toward the grill for their food. Blaine and Cam get in line to order deli sandwiches. Behind them is just one of Cam's friends.

"You gonna introduce us?" the boy says.

"Oh!" Cam laughs. "Yeah I guess it's silly to wait since you're here. Blaine this is Matt, Matt my roommate Blaine." Matt is almost as tall as Cam, but as solid as Cam is limber. His hair is dark, curling slightly at his neck.

"Hi," Matt says, holding his hand out for Blaine to shake. "Wow. Your eyes are stunning."

"Um…"

"Matt, no! Stop trying to flirt with my best friend."

"I can't help it."

"I know," Cam responds, and the tightness in his jaw is not something Blaine has seen before, but he is so happy to be meeting people and to have been called 'best friend' by Cam to think anything of it. It's one thing to know they're each other's best friend. It's another to have it confirmed in front of other people.

The sandwich line moves forward and Blaine places his order, unable to keep the grin off his face. When he sits down with the group, a bunch of tables pushed together to fit them all, Blaine feels like he might be able to find his niche here. When they find out he's a music major and that he plays the piano, they invite him to join next year because their current pianist is graduating in the spring. And although Blaine still hasn't caught all their names, it feels a bit like he could make himself a home.

Anyone who can keep Cam at ease with that smile on his face is good in Blaine's book.

* * *

_A/N: Just a note - I throw out some fic extras at my tumblr. It's the same url if anyone's interested. Thanks for reading!_


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:**

Blaine sees a lot of Cam's friends after that first time meeting them. Because he was so busy all the time, he'd never really gotten the chance to meet other people in Cam's life. Now they aren't some abstract concept, but actual people he can name: Katie, Tyler, Joel, Matt.

They show up at the coffee shop with Cam all the time now and Blaine had made sure to memorize their "usual" orders until they were second nature. While waiting for their coffees, they'd ask him about his day and make small talk, which turned into conversations and debates and actual discussion.

At some point mid-November, Blaine realized that Cam's friends had become his friends too, and with December and the end of his first semester around the corner, he laments the time he'd missed with them.

Exams come and go for Blaine and Cam both, who - because of their respective music and art classes - have only one or two actual tests to prepare for. While Cam finishes up his portfolio for Beginner's Drawing (_Beginner's…Ha!_), Blaine taps out the left hand of his piano final while reviewing about Ancient Rome for his history test. Their English 101 classes are completed with a final paper rather than a final exam, and so that eases up on their exam week stress. They finish much earlier than their freshman peers.

The Monday before Winter Break, while everyone is scrambling over their last exams for the semester and packing up their necessary belongings for their return to their homes, Blaine is hunkered down in the library basement, not working and instead listening to U2 and reading Michka Assayas' conversation with Bono in attempt to hide from the persistent notes of Christmas tunes and the scatterings of red and green decorations that adorn campus.

It's difficult to feel festive when stuck on campus despite everyone else leaving.

Blaine hadn't even considered going home for the break. What's home anyway? Certainly not where his parents live. Not anymore. Maybe when he first came to Ashland it felt like leaving home, but now that he's been here for a few months, home feels like his cramped little dorm and the smell of acrylic paints, and Cam, and a piano piece playing from his computer. It feels like the vinyl they have around their room and their velvet posters and marker-stained hands.

Unfortunately, even by staying at Ashland he can't retain that feeling of home. The school requires anyone staying on campus through the long winter break to move temporarily into one building: the international hall where most, if not all, the exchange students live. For the sake of Blaine and a few others remaining, they'd had to turn the common rooms on each floor into dorms. It seems like such a hassle, but Blaine understands that they need to be where an RA can keep track of them.

Blaine really doesn't want to leave his room, even though the temporary one will be much bigger. His life is here.

His displeasure had been apparent. Cam had quickly noticed how uncomfortable Blaine was getting as Winter Break got closer and closer. He'd assured him, "I'd love to take you home, B. Just not now, not for Christmas. My house… is not going to be very pleasant. Not with Damian…"

Blaine doesn't want to be alone, but more than that: he can't watch Cam pack up and leave. He doesn't want to see it – the bags and the easel and the paints and the computer and books. He doesn't want to observe just how easy it could be for Cam to leave him if he wanted, like he was never there in the first place. He doesn't want to see Cam walk away.

Actually, maybe the move into the international building is a blessing; he won't have to see the absence of Cam all around him.

On Tuesday, after Blaine's last library shift until the following semester, he returns to his dorm and it's all gone save the folded sheets on Cam's bed. Even that little detail forces Blaine to swallow his loneliness. Cam's bed is never neat; it's always difficult to make their beds when they're bunked the way they are, so Cam often half-asses it or ignores it completely.

On Blaine's desk sits an envelope with his name on it in Cam's writing. He stares at it.

_Blaine._

And that's all he'll have of Cam while he's here at his supposed 'home' and miserable because such a huge part of it is missing.

The letter is a simple 'sorry I missed you – call if you need' kind of note, but it's so full of Cam that Blaine can't help but laugh through it. He feels bad that he missed sending him off only because he knows Cam would've liked to say good bye. Based off the note, Cam understands. He always understands Blaine.

With his heart a little lighter despite the sadness rolling through him – alone, empty, lonely, alone, alone – Blaine drops his bag off and walks to the dining hall where dinner will be leftovers from the week before. Come Monday when everything, even the dining hall, is closed, he'll have to start making his own meals or go out using money he can't afford to spend. Maybe the other remaining students will cook with him. He'd love to try some different cultural dishes.

The dining hall seems to be only partially empty, as students are only just starting to head home. It's the absence of Cam that makes it seem like everyone is gone, but the dinner lines are just as full and just as noisy.

Blaine sits himself at a small corner table where he can eat his salad quickly and privately. He debated getting chicken, but he wasn't sure how much he trusted the meat. At least a salad is a safe option.

On Wednesday, the school's numbers have depleted radically, and the dining hall is only half full when Blaine walks in for lunch. He sneaks a peek at the entrée, winces, and puts two slices of veggie pizza on his plate instead.

He sits down at his usual private table and dabs a napkin onto the pizza to soak up some of the grease when a voice jolts him out of his thoughts.

"What are you doing all by yourself?" It's Matt who is hovering behind him, his hands gripping the back of Blaine's chair. "Come sit by me. Bring your tray."

Blaine looks over at the table Matt seems to be heading towards. There are about five other people there, and Blaine only recognizes Tyler. On one hand, Blaine is completely floored that Matt noticed him over here at all – he hadn't exactly made himself noticeable. On the other hand, he really doesn't know the others, and that makes him a little uncomfortable.

It's going to be weird hanging out with Matt and Ty without Cam around, but he doesn't want to seem as if he dislikes them. There's no reason he _shouldn't _be able to be with them without Cam. They're his friends too –or getting there. He's shouldn't let that pass him by.

So Blaine jumps on the kind offer, following behind Matt with his tray.

Lunch itself is utterly insignificant, but eating with Matt, who was kind enough to ask, and Tyler leaves Blaine with a warm feeling that fills his chest, even with Cam gone.

By the next day, they are gone too, and Wes helps Blaine carry the rest of his sheets to the East side of campus before closing up Westerville Hall until the following year.

* * *

For the first few weeks of school, college had felt like a very long activity camp, and the real adjustment was making shared bathrooms and sudden freedom feel like normalcy. The first week of Winter Break makes Blaine question his assessment, because _this_ feels like camp, except this time he's stuck in the middle of hypothetical woods with literally nothing to do.

The academic buildings remain locked, including the music building that houses the practice pianos. That in itself is enough for Blaine to go stir crazy. He tries to make up for it by walking into town to the music store where the owner will give him some time with the instruments. But eventually it gets too cold for him to make the trek there.

With half their main clientele gone, the coffee shop unfortunately cuts Blaine's hours back so he only works two days a week. He despises this not only because he could use the money, but also because he'd welcome the distraction. He doesn't look forward to the walk there. But sometimes, on the colder days, Megan will pick him up and take him back.

Although the others tend to order out, Blaine gets very good at maintaining a diet of stove-top meals like soups and hotdogs and chicken. As he'd hoped, they sometimes come together for culturally diverse meals, and on Christmas Day they are all invited to the President's House for a feast.

Because of his academic standing, he'd been invited to the President's House before. He's not sure why they call it a 'house.' It's a mansion. He would know. He remembers entering the foyer where a split staircase, very much like the kind he'd ascended to get to his childhood bedroom, rose up to a too high ceiling where the second floor started. And drifting down from them was the ghost of a laugh – Cooper's, followed by his own infantile one.

He declines the Christmas invitation, picks up Chinese food for dinner, and spends the day singing carols to the tiny Charlie Brown tree he splurged on the day before.

The next day, he gets a call from the post office saying that he has a package he should pick up since the school's mailroom is closed, so Blaine puts on a heavy jacket over his cardigan and makes his way into town for his package.

It's a medium-sized box that he can easily carry, but since he's in town he stops in at the Greene Bean where Megan hands him a complimentary Christmas chai.

It's without a return address, but he assumes the box is from Cam. It's not. Inside are hastily wrapped gifts packed loosely with newspaper. The LA Times, apparently.

Cooper.

Oh god, Cooper. They hadn't seen each other in years, quite literally. It's the first time Cooper had reached out to him since… well, since Sadie.

It's a piano book for a level he'd passed three years ago and a movie he'd owned since September. From anyone else, it would've been one of those gifts he'd smile for and never touch again. But this was from Cooper, and that changed everything. Even though it was poorly wrapped (_Cooper had to have done it himself!_) and packed in the LA Times (_well,_ _he attempted to protect it_) and almost useless (_he supports my music! And remembered I like superheroes_), the gift was everything he could've asked for.

They were the only things he got. Gone were the days where he and Coop would race down those goddamn split stairs to see what Santa had left under the tree, where his mom would bake cookies with him, and where his Dad would hug him tight as a thank you for whatever homemade gift he'd made with his class.

_Blainers_, Cooper's note says.

_A few years ago I wrote you an email and got a scathing email back about how I couldn't contact you anymore and how you loathed me for my choices. It was signed under your name, but it had father all over it. Forgive me. But I know I couldn't reach out to you until you were out from under their wing. _

_I've only recently heard that that time is now, and I apologize I couldn't be there for you sooner. I never wanted you to have to go through what I went through on your own. I want to be a part of your life again, if you'll let me._

_Merry Christmas, little brother. _

_Coop_

_PS: Extra work on CSI January 14!_

At the bottom of the Christmas card is Cooper's cell-phone number.

The first thing Blaine does is text Cam, the second is call Cooper. And after that he tries not to think about his parents. He does anyway.

* * *

Time moves slower after the holidays. Without being able to practice music or work the hours away, Blaine reads, watches movies on his laptop, questions his decisions, and eventually goes over his schedule with Megan for the upcoming semester.

He'll have a full week again – but this time, free Friday nights!

Things fall back into place when Wes arrives back on campus to open Westerville Hall and when, a few hours later, Cam comes home.

They'd kept in contact all through break and Cam knew how difficult it had been for Blaine. Blaine also knew how equally difficult it had been for Cam and his family. But they'd made it through.

Classes start up, Blaine picks up his library hours again, the weather gets even colder, and Blaine hitches rides to the coffee shop from any one of 'the gang.' On his suddenly open Friday nights, they drink and listen to music or play a drinking game while watching a movie. Blaine gets drunk for the first time and discovers he hates whisky as he spends the rest of the evening gripping the toilet.

As Blaine gets more and more comfortable with Cam's friends… _their _friends, Blaine learns to enjoy hanging out with just Katie, Tyler and Joel on the days that Cam and Matt decide to scour the party scene, which is common for them.

They're all so different, and Blaine often wonders what his parents would say about his friends. They wouldn't approve, that's for sure.

Blaine and Cam keep Sundays for their time, though, a few weeks into the semester, Matt joins them one day for Mario Kart and then every Sunday after that. Blaine doesn't mind. The three of them get along well, and Matt seems to really like Blaine too.

He gets less flirty, Blaine notices, as they get to know each other better.

A month and a half into the semester, Blaine is tapping out an essay while waiting for Cam and Matt to arrive back in the dorm room from wherever they went off to that morning. Breakfast probably.

They arrive together and Cam gestures for Matt to take the other chair, even though Blaine has to squeeze closer to his desk to give him room. Cam leans against the refrigerator, biting his lip. The tension is thick.

"What's going on, guys?" Blaine asks, maneuvering out of his chair because it's too awkward sitting there. "You guys are acting…odd."

"There's something we need to tell you," Matt says, but he's looking at Cam as he says it.

"Cam?"

"Yeah. I'm thinking. Uhh… Okay. So, Blaine." Cam stammers. "I haven't been completely honest with you. I should've told you when you came out to me, but I didn't, and that totally wasn't fair."

"Cam!" Blaine hisses, because he doesn't like where this conversation is going and he really doesn't want to know -

"I'm bi," he admits. "And well, Matt and I…"

Oh. _OH. _"You're fucking," Blaine finishes for him, proud of his ability to keep his voice apathetic, despite the confusion coursing through him.

"We're boyfriends, actually. But it started like that, yes," Matt explains.

"How long?" Blaine asks. He has to know, even if he's not sure he wants to.

"Since last semester," Cam replies.

"As in, this has been going on since I met Matt, last semester?"

"Well we weren't together then, but we were –"

"That's fine. I got it, thanks Cam." Blaine breathes in heavily, closes his eyes, and tries to get his world to realign itself. When he opens them, things are still off-kilter, but Cam keeps looking at him, hurt and concerned, so he exhales, "okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay." And he smiles at the two of them.

The thing is, Blaine's not really okay. He's, of course, fine with Cam being bi and having a boyfriend and everything. What he has a problem with is being lied to.

That night, Cam rolls over on his bunk, sleeping there on a weekend for the first time in a long time – and now Blaine knows that what means. Into the darkness, Cam speaks low, "I never told you because I knew what it would've done to us."

"What do you mean?" Blaine asks, facing the wall and curled up in his own sheets.

"If you knew I was bi. Available. You've always been - something different – to me, B."

It would've destroyed them, Blaine admits to himself. Cam was never his to love that way, even if he had let himself sink to those first stirrings of attraction. But Cam was his to love in _some_ way. And Blaine thinks about Cooper in the same way he knows Cam is thinking about Damian.

He and Cam were always meant to be something different. He considers all this, but doesn't know what to say. Instead, he asks Cam if he's happy.

"Yes. Very."

"Then, we're good," he yawns. And they both sink back into dreams.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading! Don't forget about the fic extras to my tumblr if you're interested._


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks for sticking with me! This is a full chapter - it's not as long as the others, but some important things go down here and time goes _quickly_. I promise, things are moving along. And we should be getting some Kurt soon! He's been lurking around the corner.

* * *

**Chapter 4:**

In time, Blaine almost forgets about how much information Cam and Matt had hidden from him. It becomes natural to see them together, and Blaine's not the type to hold a grudge over that sort of thing.

Their acquaintances had known they were hooking up, which Blaine had missed completely. But it seemed Blaine was the first to know that they were actually dating. So, he can't really complain about being left out of the loop. Not really.

The rest of the semester flies by, with Blaine having to move out of his dorm yet again for the summer months when the campus only keeps one residential building open. Cam returns home for the break, but they've decided to room again next year (another move for Blaine!)

He'd actually been pretty concerned about it. Seeing how he and Matt were progressing, it seemed inevitable that they'd try to room together. He never felt like a third wheel per se - they both appreciated him too much for that - but he did feel a different air about them as the semester continued.

When they were all three together, everything was actually quite perfect – Blaine had two close friends who happened to be dating. And he and Matt were still learning about each other, so that when they hung out alone, there was always something new and exciting. One night they shared stories, and when Blaine explained how he'd broken his arm once playing capture the flag, Matt revealed that his front, right upper tooth was fake because he'd gotten in a fist fight. They'd met through Cam, but it was clear that they'd formed a friendship outside of that.

But with Cam alone, it had started to feel like Blaine was becoming more and more of a second thought. The spontaneity Blaine loved about his roommate was instead directed towards his time with Matt, and Blaine had begun to feel like a part of a 'd hang out, and as soon as the movie was done or the Mario Kart race completed, Cam would meet up with Matt, leaving Blaine alone.

But Cam had mentioned room draw as if there was no question about who his roommate was going to be, reaffirming Blaine's role in his life. Blaine had breathed a sigh of relief and shook his head, attributing his thoughts to his own paranoia. He was being silly.

He hears from both of them regularly during the summer, and at one point they come to visit, breaking up the monotony of high summer and iced coffee (he's gotten good at making them with just enough ice to keep it cold, but not so much that it waters down the flavor).

Things get complicated as September approaches. Cam's tweets, which get sent to his phone like a text, reveal that something went down – they're dark and self-hating and fused with hopelessness uncharacteristic of Cam.

When Blaine checks Facebook that night, he finds out that his friends broke up. Right in time for the new semester.

* * *

His classes are difficult since he's using the time to catch up on required classes outside of his major. Even though he's majoring in Musical Composition (officially declared!), the school is still a liberal arts school. He doesn't find the math that hard, as it's such a huge part of music, but the sciences turn out to be rather complicated. And he likes English Literature well enough except for the fact that he managed to pick a dry time period. Who knew he'd want to throw Thoreau through a window (that exact phrase had been his proudest tweet yet).

Coerced by his friends the previous semester, Blaine had signed up for the jazz band, which he loves because of the music and hates because of the blatant tension in the room between Cam and Matt and their friends, who'd picked sides.

Blaine refuses to do that, though his loyalties lie with Cam. Matt means a lot to him too, and he just can't bring himself to let a break-up ruin a friendship.

He's still in the dark about what happened. They don't talk about Matt.

And Matt doesn't talk about Cam.

For the most part, it looks like their friends have chosen Matt's side, as Blaine starts to see other people coming around their room for Cam. The room is bigger this year, so it's not uncommon for Cam to hold a party or two there, and Blaine is often invited even though he either has to work or chooses to hang out with his old crew where he feels more comfortable.

Wes, who returned as their RA for his senior year, turns a blind eye to the alcohol that gets smuggled into their room.

It's just happenstance that Blaine and Cam's Sundays are too busy for them to continue their usual hang out time. And when Cam snags a job at the Tech Support center, they have even less time with each other – mornings and, if they're lucky, occasional nights too.

Matt has more free time, and Blaine finds himself in his presence more often. They share a class and a lunch period and Matt doesn't work. It's only one schedule – Blaine's – they have to work around.

Matt is working on a big project the night Blaine finds out what happened between him and Cam. After jazz band, he, Katie and Tyler head to late night dining for their usual dinners since practice goes right through the normal dining hours.

Cam is a few paces ahead of them, waving to a girl Blaine has seen come around their room a few times. He forgets her name, but waves too, while he walks with his friends.

"I can't believe him," Katie says, rolling her eyes. "After what he did to Matt…"

"_Katie,_" Tyler drawls, with a glance he doesn't think Blaine will see.

But Blaine does see, and he's not going to let his friends insult his best friend right in front of him. He won't take it, and they obviously don't want him to ask about it. He does.

"What do you mean?"

Blaine takes pride in how uncomfortable they look – as they should, gossiping like typical high schoolers rather than acting mature about it.

"Oh…uh… Well."

"Christ, Katie. This is your fault, just tell him." At her blank, panicked look, Tyler continues. "Cam cheated, Blaine. With that girl."

There are the moments that change everything – the day his parents found out he was gay, the day Cooper left, being disowned, meeting Cam, meeting Matt. As Blaine observes Cam with his arm around the petite blonde and laughing with his head thrown back, he knows that this is one of those moments.

Because somewhere behind that smile is a cheater. He has no doubt of its truth, even though he's not one to put stock in what other people say. Knowing is simply putting the puzzle pieces together and finally seeing the bigger picture.

He knows Cam had left him out of his partying life for a reason, and it's difficult to reconcile the Cam that took him out in the rain to tell him about his brother and who held his hand at the hospital, who brought such color into his life, with the Cam who can lie to someone's face about his infidelity. But both parts are there, and it makes sense now.

He doesn't need to ask to know how long this has been going on; it must've happened long before summer. And for that reason, Blaine appreciates Matt's ability to smile through anything even more.

But Cam, especially to Blaine, is more than just the label 'cheater.' And in that moment, while his friends are scowling at his roommate, Blaine resolves himself even more to being friends with Cam _and _Matt.

Katie and Tyler clearly expect him to think they're lying to turn him against Cam. He assures them that this isn't the case, that he believes them. But in almost the same moment, he smiles at Cam from across the dining tables.

* * *

He tries not to show that anything has changed. He understands more now, but nothing has changed. It hasn't.

Except Blaine really doesn't like Cam's new friends. They really don't welcome him into their crowd when they come over, leaving their room stinking of booze and sweat and smoke. Cam knows it's bad for Blaine to inhale smoke, and he tells his friends to take it outside. But they always reek of it when they come back, Cam included.

Blaine sprays the room with Lysol and Febreze, and he cleans up their rug after the party fouls, but the smells seep into their walls.

He hates who Cam becomes around his new friends, as "smoke breaks" sometimes take an hour or more, and if they're hanging in the common room, Blaine knows to avoid his room because of what is no doubt going on in there. They don't need a sexile sock, Blaine can read Cam too easily now that he knows the truth.

Eventually, he despises being in his room so much that he only returns there to sleep. Matt is more than willing to let Blaine hang out with him in his space on free afternoons. But after a few weeks, he realizes he shouldn't have to live like this. He shouldn't be afraid to return to his room because of who might be there. And he shouldn't have to sleep with his lungs thick with smoke.

Blaine confronts about Cam about it, because he's unhappy and he misses him. What he wants is what they had the previous year. Things were good then, tiny room and all. It was perfect. But they can't recapture the past. It's a hard conversation, but Cam agrees to ease up on the partying in their room.

Instead, he and his new friends find a new place to hang out, and although they invite Blaine, he never takes them up on their offer. It's a formality, they expect him to say no. So he does.

But he sees Cam even less.

Things hit their worst one Sunday when Blaine and Matt are listening to music in Blaine's room while working on a project for their shared class. Cam returns from his girlfriend's, looks at the two of them, grabs his sketchpad from his desk, and leaves as quickly as he arrived.

He and Matt barely breathe in the immediate moments after, but Matt makes an off-hand quip about Emerson and the tension is gone. For his part, things are fine.

Cam gives him the silent treatment, which lasts a good three weeks before the tension becomes so thick that it inevitably forces him and Cam to talk about it…and where they go from here.

* * *

Blaine realizes how bad it's getting on his first free Saturday morning of the year – he'd traded shifts with his a co-worker who'd needed Thursday night off in exchange for taking Blaine's Saturday shift.

It's one of those rare moments that Blaine and Cam are in the room together, and briefly Blaine wonders if something happened with the girl friend for him to be here instead of there. Cam throws his usual beanie on and Blaine finishes up applying gel to his hair to a presentable level, but they both stand there ready for the day and assuming the other has somewhere to be – when clearly they don't.

It shouldn't be this hard.

Cam's stomach growls and, despite the awkward silence, they laugh, and Blaine asks if Cam wants to go to breakfast with him.

It's an olive branch.

But when they get to the dining hall, after Blaine finds a seat and nibbles on his French toast, he sees Matt and Joel sliding into chairs at a table across the way.

He hopes Cam hasn't noticed because he doesn't want their presence to ruin the chance they're having here at starting to fix their friendship.

"You can go over there. If you like," Cam says quietly, using his fork to scatter the food around. "You don't have to… stay here."

Blaine had never intended to leave, not for a moment had it crossed his mind to join his other friends. He'd been _so_ excited to have time with Cam.

But finally, after all the disappointment and sadness, Blaine feels _angry_ at Cam. Furious. How dare he! How could he minimize their friendship – their brotherhood – with the assumption that Blaine doesn't want to be here?

Cam is acting like Blaine treats him like a burden, and it _hurts_. Because he'd tried so hard to forgive him, to act like everything was fine. He'd tried; Cam hadn't! If anything Blaine feels like the burden – a connection to a past life that Cam has since moved on from. And Cam has the gall …

He gives Cam what he wants and picks up his tray, heading towards the other table. When he sits down, he smiles thinly at the Matt and Joel and shakes away the emotions of what just transpired.

When Joel gets up to refill his drink, Blaine looks behind him where Cam is still twirling his fork around the plate. Matt leans over and grabs Blaine's hand. "I'm sorry," he says. "Cam is really good a playing the victim."

For the moment, Blaine believes it.

* * *

That night Blaine and Cam talk. Little is said except for the fact that they both think they should stop pretending. And while Cam drills on about Blaine abandoning him and picking Matt's side, Blaine can't help but think _you made the decision for me._

But he stays quiet and listens to what Cam has to say and nods along. And when Cam leaves, he feels like he can breathe again.

It hits him when he looks around the room and realizes how much of Cam's stuff has migrated across campus since this disaster began. His space is basically a storage area, and there's not much _Cam_ left.

The faint echo of ska comes from down the hall, and Blaine thinks of that first time skanking. Even though his back was aching, everything was so right.

And their walls are full of records, and the fuzzy velvet posters they'd colored together, and the drawings he'd done for him, and the Cam of it all is gone for good and it's just Blaine left.

Cam was the best friend he'd ever had, his best friend for life. And he's not angry anymore, just deeply, gut wrenchingly empty.

He can't be here anymore, and decides without much thought that he needs to be with Matt, in the place where he'd taken solace countless times over that semester while Cam was off with his new friends.

He cries on the way over, sobs into Matt's warm t-shirt when he gets there, hiccupping and coughing through the ache in his lungs. And Matt doesn't judge him, just rubs his back and whispers "it's okay" in his ear.

He wears himself out, his arms growing too heavy to continue their desperate grasp in Matt's shirt, and he sighs with the last of it. The skin around his eyes burn, puffy and red, but there's not much in him left to cry.

"Come on. Let's go for a walk," Matt insists. Blaine is exhausted, but he can't be alone right now. And if anyone knows what it's like to lose Cam, it's Matt.

Matt hands him a sweatshirt, because it's nighttime now, and Blaine's only wearing a polo. They find the least lit spot on campus – a grassy field where the lacrosse team sometimes practices – and lie down on their backs looking up at the stars. And even though it's dark and they're technically trespassing onto an area closed after 10, Blaine feels safe.

The stars that peek out from the skies are sparse because of the lights on campus, but there are enough of them that a sliver of night is as clear as it can get here. He recognizes Orion easily from the straight row of stars that make up the belt.

Looking out at the infinite universe makes Blaine feel empowered through his brevity. Somehow his life here is important.

He thought it was important to Cam.

"What if it was my fault?" Blaine mutters.

"It wasn't," Matt assures him. "Cam is a pathological liar, Blaine. This was inevitable. You're too kind for your own good and he's taking advantage of that. You're letting him."

"But it feels –"

"I know how it feels. But do you think Cam's crying over you like this?"

"No." And, damn, Blaine's tearing up again. "It still hurts."

"I know."

* * *

The next day, Blaine goes to the dollar store and buys glow-in-the-dark stars. He can't bring himself to take down the memories of Cam, because there were good times in them once, but he spends the afternoon scattering the stars on the ceiling above his bed. And it feels like a new beginning, so that's enough.


End file.
